A Little Bit Of Hope Never Hurt Anyone
by matanee
Summary: Emma Swan needs time to realise how much she actually loves a certain pirate. Hopefully, she won't be too late to admit it.


Emma Swan had been called several things before by angry ex-boyfriends.

She was very often the one who ended the relationship - anyone knowing her wouldn't have been surprised. She broke so many hearts that, after a while, she wondered whether the things she was called were actually true. If so, 80% of the time she lacked a heart, in 15% of the time it was made of ice and in the remaining 5% it was simply a piece of stone. Also, she was a relentless, unhuman being, a bitch, even a whore once or twice. For all of the guys, she felt a little bit sad, because frankly, it wasn't their fault. Okay, perhaps in some cases it was partly their fault too, but the only flaw they really had was that their faces didn't look like sad teddy bears half of the time and their last names weren't Cassidy.

Oh, and they turned out to be huge jerks in the very first moment after the break-up.

The only break-up she didn't regret at all was right before Storybrooke turned her life upside down. She had been with Richard for a few months when she was given a case in Chicago. Her boss placed her with someone older and more experienced, given what a huge fish this client was supposed to be. The other bonds bail person was called Hope and she was the typical veteran in the business. She always kept a cigarette between her lips and she left the scent of Jean Patou wherever she went. On their way to Chicago, Emma asked her where did she get such an expensive perfume. (She only wished they were paid enough to automatically become one of the lucky upper hundred who afforded such luxury as Jean Patou.) Hope told her without looking at her, smiling sadly:

"You are young so you can't understand, but when you work around rich people you inevitably learn a few tricks. You don't bust them on the street or in a restaurant. Not the great freuds. You enjoy them as long as you can, you enjoy that they pay for your dinner, take you home, praise your body and buy you expensive presents - what else would these men need money for if not to impress us, women? - and only then, you reveal who you are. Just make sure you have the advantage of the unfamiliar ground so they can't harm you. They have to respect and then fear you, that's the key, Emma."

Emma didn't really need to know more in order to realise what kind of a person Hope was. She wasn't too keen on taking advices from her - how ironic that the only advice she ended up taking saved her from the greatest idiot of them all.

Getting Jockey Zimmerman to meet them in the Scofflaw was easy (after some Dallas jokes Emma was actually impressed by Hope) - preparing for the bust was a little more difficult. Richard had the best sense of timing in the entire universe and, even though Hope wasn't the kind of person to look in your eyes too often or stare directly (she was a bonds bail person after all, she knew how to notice things without looking), she spotted way too easily how frustrated Emma was after receiving five text messages in a row.

"How does he smell?"

Emma looked up, surprise obvious on her face, but Hope just eyed the crowd lazily. She looked odd without a cigarette and she drummed on the bar, her long nails reflecting the green, blue and pink lights slowly changing each other in the room.

"Excuse me?"

"Your boyfriend, how does he smell?"

She looked eternally casual and Emma furrowed her brows lightly. She leaned against the counter and shrugged.

"Aftershave, I suppose." It was more of a question than a statement.

"Do you like it?"

Emma tried to ignore how weird this conversation became, with success - more or less.

"I don't have a problem with it."

"How does he smell in bed?"

Realising all over again that she hadn't been with anyone since Neal Cassidy was a depressing thought that she didn't wish to be lost in at the moment. She dropped her glance, swallowing heavily.

"I don't know."

"Then be smart and don't waste your time on him if you don't like how he smells," she sighed, the longing for a cigarette almost palpable in her one metre radius. "Relationships die the moment you realise you can't accept something that he can't change. After that moment on, it's just wasting time."

"You sound awfully confident," Emma noted with one eyebrow raised. The otherwise pleasant background music was sounding like wardrums in her ear now and she shivered underneath her dress.

Hope didn't answer, she just smiled at her, looking directly in her eyes.

After Jockey Zimmerman was dealt with and Emma returned to Boston, Richard was waiting for her with a scene fit for a romantic movie. Candles, awful dinner and dancing to soft music, perfume as a welcome-home gift (not Jean Patou, though), a bed just ready for them. Perhaps Emma was dreaming of this moment as a little girl but, as a 27-year-old, all she could think of was whether she would be brave enough to smell his skin or not. Richard was bare underneath her in five minutes, heaving with passion and need when Emma decided that she didn't like the scent. She didn't break the habit of being together for months and breaking up before having sex, and the speech of 'it's not you, it's me' was filling her with more guilt than ever. The feeling passed quickly when he tried to blackmail her with non-existing naked pictures of her, and she didn't only punch him in the face. She also kept the perfume.

Luckily for her, Killian Jones was someone worth breaking habits for. After all, he had broken so many habits for her already.

Instead of listing all the insults she had ever received in the past, she collected the little things she loved about Killian. It was a much more enjoyable pastime, and also, a much longer list.

"I can feel you staring," he moaned at 4 a.m., voice hoarse with sleep and eyelids too heavy to open. He had a smirk, as if it was his default expression, and Emma bit on her lower lip. She was making a list.

"I don't have anything better to do."

Her fingers moved slowly on his bare chest, stopping above his heart. It quickened and she grinned, looking into the now open eyes of the pirate.

After a few weeks, Hook learned how to handle cook-ware without Emma fearing he would set fire to the house. Putting her hands on a decent flat in Storybrooke was already a challenge - having Killian kill them both accidentally? She would have rather avoided that. (Especially when Henry was staying over.) He was a fast-learner and a divine sight next to the stove, most of the time in sweat-pants and nothing on the top. He allowed himself a bare chest and her the sight of his flawless back each morning when Henry was not around, and the taste of his omelette was a bonus on the top of everything else.

She snaked her arms around his waist each time, burying her face between his shoulderblades. She breathed him in and he had the goosebumps each time, making her smile into his skin.

"Admit it," she murmured. "Wearing pyjama pants instead of all that leather is much more comfortable."

"To use the dictionary Granny is so keen on forcing me to use," he started and she heard the smile in his voice, even though she could not see it, "I don't give a damn about the freaking pants when I have you around me."

Emma chuckled lightly and placed her chin on his shoulder, breathing into his ears on purpose. Hook started shivering right away.

"Granny taught you how to say nice things to girls?"

"You have no idea who you allowed into your life, do you, dove?"

Having only the ashes of the omelette for breakfast was way too common in the household - after all, not even a pirate could cook and please a woman at the same time, aye?

Listening to Mary Margaret giving birth was perhaps the most traumatic thing Emma had ever had the pleasure to experience. Her mother would have loved Emma to be in there with them, and everyone was slightly worried how David would endure the process (they were more worried for him than for Mary Margaret, as Hook pointed it out several times). Despite her mother's wish, Emma knew he wouldn't have been able to handle it. Her stomach was twisting and turning anyway as she was marching up and down the aisle, the shouts and screams echoing through the entire building.

Hook stood by and watched with concern.

"You should sit down, love." He was gentle, and she chose not to say anything or she might have just yelled the hair off his pretty head. She didn't want that.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to talk to her right now," Henry offered softly, obviously enjoying the sight more than he should've, and they grinned at each other with Killian.

_The guts of this pirate,_ she wanted to mutter but chose not to, only sending a murderous glare in her boyfriend's direction. He didn't seem too touched.

Mary Margaret gave birth to a boy, a healthy and very quiet little boy. Everyone was in awe as they studied the happy parents and the big sister, holding her little brother for the first time. He was lost in the blankets and in her arms, and she smiled so brightly even the stars would have envied her beauty.

"Would you like to hold him, Killian?" Mary Margaret's hoarse, yet kind voice was almost swallowed in the murmur filling the room, but her words were followed by complete silence. All eyes turned on Hook and Emma almost laughed out loud at his expression. He looked like he was offered to take the baby and raise it on his own.

"I- I'm not sure it is a good idea," he murmured, obviously nervous as he slightly raised his hook for everyone to see. "I don't want to hurt him."

"I will help you," Emma offered with one eyebrow raised in question, looking at her parents with a somewhat childish excitement shining in her eyes. "Are you okay with it, David?"

Prince Charming might have looked a bit alarmed but he nodded after a moment of hesitation, keeping a close eye on his daughter as she walked over to Hook slowly.

"Have you ever held a baby before?" Emma asked quietly, not even trying to hide her amusement. Hook took a deep breath.

"Not in a while. Not in one arm."

"Hold still."

The baby made quiet mewling sounds when Emma took him from her chest, carefully placing him on Hook's arm. The pirate looked so tense like his entire existence was to be decided in that very moment and Emma bit on her lower lip, switching her eyes between him and her brother.

"Is he- is he stable?" Hook nearly whispered and Emma chuckled, holding one hand on Killian's and the other on his elbow, near the baby's head.

"He's quite stable, don't worry," she murmured, not taking her eyes off Hook - who happened to be unable to take his eyes off the baby. And, as much as she would have denied it a year ago, she found that this was probably one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. Killian, with a baby.

"When can I expect my brother, Mom?"

Henry's question, to Emma's surprise, didn't kill the mood or made anyone laugh. It only made Hook tear his eyes from the baby for a split second, glancing at Emma with something in his gaze that Emma couldn't quite put her finger on.

Interestingly, her first answer would've been 'soon', she just decided to leave it unanswered. For now.

Emma didn't really understand why there was a graveyard in Storybrooke. The fairytale characters weren't supposed to age, they weren't supposed to die, yet, there was a cemetery. It seemed like a nice park, save for Regina's mausoleum in the middle - and another grave not too far from that. The stone was resting under a great willow tree, lonely, yet, charmingly peaceful, and Emma sometimes found herself visiting it, bringing new flowers once in a while. She was always surprised to find that others were coming by the grave as well, so she didn't always have to be the one to throw away dried flowers and dust the grave. Others had done some service to the late Sheriff Graham as well.

When she came she usually came alone but one time, knowing that Killian wouldn't be satisfied with a simple 'somewhere' as an answer to the question 'where are you going?', she just felt the presence of the pirate all around her. She never liked when Hook wouldn't leave her be, deal with her own things, but she knew he would have to learn about it sooner or later. She wasn't sure when would the right time come.

She slowly knelt by the grave and swept the dust off the gravestone, running her palm all over his name: _Graham Humbert._

"He was sheriff in town when I came here," she spoke out loudly, leaving her hand to linger above the stone for a moment longer. She stood. "He was also Regina's lover."

"Was he yours?"

Hook was slowly walking up to her and she didn't have to turn to feel his presence right behind her. She always felt so strong and safe when he was around, she couldn't mistake him for anyone.

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I'm not. I know that anyone who was capable of winning your heart after the whole thing with Neal must have been a good man. He probably deserved you."

"We never had the chance to find out," she blinked, the shoelace around her wrist feeling warmer and warmer with every second. It wasn't burning, it wasn't unpleasant. It just made itself known. "He kissed me and his memories came back. He couldn't feel anything because he didn't have a heart, yet, he somehow found me..."

She was lost in her words, but Hook helped her out.

"Loveable?"

Emma nodded, looking down at the flowers she brought.

"Even without a heart."

She felt his chest pressing against her back lightly and she leaned into him, closing her eyes for a second. He didn't mean to imply anything with the movement, it was simple comfort he knew she needed.

"When Neal reappeared in Neverland and I wanted to give you two a chance to be happy, I wished I wouldn't have a heart so I couldn't have loved you as much as I did," he started, his words brought to her ears by the warm wind of the early fall. She shivered under his touch on her hand. "Now I realise it wouldn't have made a difference. Graham Humbert _did _love you without a heart, and so would I."

She smiled down at the grave and held his hand more tightly, running her thumb over his fingers. Then, he smiled into her hair.

"Emma."

On any other day, she would have noted how unusually gently Regina spoke to her. It was not that day. Not when Hook was laid out in front of her, painted in sweat, his whole body rising and falling with each heavy breath he was trying to take.

Not when Hook was dying.

"Mary Margaret asked me to tell you that she took Henry home with her. She will look after him until Hook gets better."

Emma didn't react, no matter how long Regina was waiting for an answer. She eyed Emma for a while before pulling out a chair and sitting down next to her.

"Look, you won't change anything if you keep sitting here and staring at him like that would make him better, okay? David and Robin are already looking for Jaffar," Regina started, her voice low and serious. Emma didn't even blink. "You should let the fairies take care of him so you could get the hell out of this room and make yourself useful."

"I don't expect you to understand, so if you came here to educate me then you might as well save your breath," Emma muttered coldly. She was on the verge of tears for two days now, and the last thing she needed right now was Regina's presence. She didn't seem to notice that, apparently.

"You forget that I lost people too. You are not the only victim of magic, and if I'm going to feel sorry for anyone, that's going to be Henry." Regina sounded absolutely collected, as if she was preparing for this conversation for a long while now. "He really likes Hook, he is the closest to a step-father he had ever had, and his mother is sitting around, feeling sorry for herself, unable to do anything in order to prevent another tragedy."

"Killian is dying because of me!" Emma raised her voice so unexpectedly that even she was surprised at her own yelling, let alone Regina. The fairies in the kitchen suddenly grew silent and they left the flat without anyone noticing. Emma felt the tears stinging her eyes but she tried to keep herself together. "I provoked Jaffar, I insisted on freeing those people that he captured and when that son of a bitch decided to turn into a giant snake, Killian jumped right in front of me! I was meant to be the one lying here, not him!"

She only realised she was crying when she felt hot tears falling to her hands and she swiftly wiped them off her face, turning back to stare at Killian. Her entire body was shaking with pent up frustration, worry, and despair, and Regina would have loved to roll her eyes at the sight. She ended up not doing it for some reason Robin would have called 'empathy', she could hear him inside her head.

"And if you were lying on this bed, would Hook sit around doing nothing? Or would he be out there and chase that sad excuse of a wizard until he finally got him and run his hook right through him?"

Emma knew the answer, and Regina knew that Emma knew. Yet, the blonde couldn't find it in herself to move - everytime she imagined standing up and leaving that room, she saw Hook waking up all alone, without anyone at his side. And the mere thought felt like a dagger in her stomach because she knew what that felt like. To wake up all alone, when you expected someone to be there. Someone important.

She had done that every single day in Kansas.

"I know why you're doing this. I know you haven't told him everything, and you are afraid you would lose him without telling him all the things you couldn't. But we both know what you have to do, Emma," Regina sighed, her voice almost kind as she stood from her chair. "We will be at Granny's, waiting for you if you decide to make yourself useful."

Emma didn't know when the door closed behind Regina, nor did she remember the moment she picked up Killian's hand and held it in her own, keeping her lips on his knuckles. His hand was warm and that meant the fever was dying down somewhat. Relief just couldn't seem to come and she let her eyes fall closed, tears escaping the edges again.

"I don't know if you can hear me or that's just something movies try to make us believe that it works," she muttered silently, fighting against her shaking hands. She held onto him as tightly as she could. "But I'm running out of ideas and Regina is right. I know what I have to do, I just don't want to leave you without at least trying to tell you something."

She took a deep breath, her insides trembling with tension and fear. She opened her tear blurred eyes and watched that tired, yet, now so powerful face, his entire being fighting against the poison of the snake, and she felt so proud that he didn't give up that the mere thought made her want to cry.

"I know that... When you said you wouldn't leave me, you meant it," she sniffed silently. "I can see how you fight even now so you wouldn't go back on your word. You believe in good form, after all."

The laughter she made was weak and short, but his face while saying these very words to her lingered in front of her eyes and she just wanted to burn it into her mind so she could never forget it.

"What I could never tell you is that... I'm not leaving your either, Killian," Emma murmured against his skin, watching his face intently as if he would open his eyes any moment now, just like on that night at 4 a.m., after their first time together. "You sailed into my life on that stupid ship of yours and you threw down your anchor and you are not going anywhere. Even if you wake up and you are alone on this bed, don't you ever forget that I am sitting here now, telling you this, because I will never repeat these words. You know me well enough to realise that, I hope."

She swallowed hard, closing her eyes again. Her tongue felt like it was made of pure gold, heavy in her mouth, but she fought it down and opened her lips to speak.

"I love you, Killian. Henry loves you. We love you," she whispered, not being able to form words any louder. "So if you die here before I could heal you, I will never forgive you, or myself for it. So don't you dare... Don't you dare leave me, us, Killian Jones."

After pressing a kiss on his forehead, Emma Swan stood with knees shaking, backing out of the flat. Regina never left: she was waiting for her outside with the fairies, a somewhat satisfied smile lingering on her face.

"Are you ready to flay that snake, Swan?" Regina asked, arms folded in front of her chest and Emma nodded, zipping her scarlet leather jacket.

She was more than ready.

When, with the indispensable help of the only bonds bail person in town, they found Jaffar and captured him later that night, they put him in a place where no one would ever find him. The fairies made the antidote from the snake's poison just in time, hence Hook could be healed and Emma could sit by his side when he woke. Of course, he told he remembered nothing of the things Emma told him so she had to repeat everything - well, not everything, obviously, she told she wouldn't do that -, but they all knew Hook was only teasing and he remembered every single word. It didn't even need Emma's superpower to tell that.

The list of reasons why Emma Swan loved Killian Jones soon turned out to be a very long one - and counting - but, even if the ending was uncertain, one thing was sure as hell the first on that list.

_Killian Jones smelled very good._ And if that was going to be a guarantee for a long and lasting relationship, Emma was more than happy that she ended up taking advice from Hope anyway.


End file.
